


Without you

by otakuvoc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Acceptance, Anger, Angst, Bargaining, Character Death, Denial, Depression, Established Relationship, Five Stages of Grief, M/M, Murder, Shooting, Tears, Watari is a good brutally honest friend, except it’s not really graphic, iwa is the person we all need in our lives, kyoutani’s mom is literally a sweetheart I would hug her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otakuvoc/pseuds/otakuvoc
Summary: Stage 1: denialStage 2: angerStage 3: bargainingStage 4: depressionStage 5: acceptanceKyoutani learned about the stages of grief in the worst way possible, by experiencing them first-hand after losing his fiancé to an armed robber.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Without you

“We have no food whatsoever in the fridge.” Kyoutani had mentioned to the guy in his arms. 

“Ehh, we can order takeout and go shopping later.” Yahaba had replied, shrugging and snuggling closer to his fiancé. 

“Please, Shigeru, we need to take care of our health.” He has insisted, receiving a groan and a “come on, Kentarou, I don’t wanna…” as a reply.

So they had went, both unaware that it would be their last outing together.

**_Stage 1: denial_ **

Kyoutani looked at the body on the ground. Right behind him was a mother and her child, protected by the one who had thrown himself in front of them. The bullet was lodged in his temple and the corpse’s eyes were glossy. Kyoutani didn’t move, no, he waited for the other to stand up, to give him a sign that he was alright. He waited, muttering his name over and over, staring at the unmoving man on the floor. The police had arrested the person, but it didn’t matter to Kyoutani. All that mattered was that Yahaba was taking too long to stand up. 

“Come on…” he mumbled under his breath. “Just stand up, we’ll go home and make dinner.” 

He was whispering sentences in a jumble of words he barely made sense of. He didn’t even notice the policeman’s hand on his shoulder, asking if he knew the victim. The only thing he noticed was the stretcher, picking up his fiancé as if he was a rag doll.

“Don’t touch him!” He let out, shooting an arm forward to grasp his significant other’s. The hand in his was cold, way too cold, and Kyoutani let it fall with a hiss.

“Sir, who’s that man? He doesn’t have a wallet or a phone on him.” A police officer asked him.

“Of course he doesn’t, I always hold on to his stuff for him, he keeps misplacing it otherwise. He’s my fiancé.” 

He was proud of having Yahaba as his fiancé. His mind was suddenly completely blocking off the moments before and Kyoutani found himself talking about him like when he introduced him to his family. He turned around, expecting the sight of a blushing-mess Yahaba, but was only met with cool air. He shook his head, cursing silently.

The following days were relatively unmoving for Kyoutani. He still went to practice, ignoring his teammates’ _odd_ words of compassion. When he would go back, he would talk to his soon-to-be husband.

“You know, they’re all acting weird when we’re playing. All ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. It’s kind of annoying but I ignore them politely, like you told me to. Do you want Tabasco in your curry? No of course you don’t, I don’t know why I’m still asking.” 

Then, Hanamaki and Matsukawa started coming to his house. His old teammates said they didn’t want him to be lonely. Kyoutani had tried to politely turn them down, because why would he need anyone when he had Yahaba, but they only looked at each other sadly before pushing passed him. Then they all started coming. Sometimes it was only one person, other times it was two. His old and new teammates were dropping by his place, eating the food he reserved for his fiancé, which he found somewhat disrespectful. No for real, who invites themselves in someone’s house and eats the food prepared for the occupants. He was insulted but politely ignored them. He knew Yahaba would congratulate him later.

One day, he was alone with his former senpai. Iwaizumi was looking at him as he made food.

“Why are you making so much?” The ex-ace asked.

“Well, some for me, for you and for Shigeru.” He shrugged, making some finishing touches.

“Kyoutani. You need to stop this.”

“Stop what?” He turned around, leaving everything on the counter and sitting next to him.

“You need to stop deluding yourself. There’s no easy way to say this, but you need to let him go. He died on impact when he was shot. He isn’t here anymore. I know you know this, deep inside, but it needs to stop.” 

Kyoutani’s breaths got shallow and tears formed in his eyes. Since the incident, he hadn’t cried and never before had he broke down in front of anyone other than the man he was supposed to marry. Although there, with his elder, Kyoutani replied with tears streaming down his cheeks and a cracking voice.

“I know. I just don’t want to believe he left me. I want him back.” He repeated the last sentence over and over until strong arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders.

**_Stage 2: anger_ **

He was alone in the small house. He was too painfully aware that he was alone and that Yahaba would never come back. He held the small photo frame in his hands, looking at his lover’s smiling face next to his scowling one. Anyone who knew him, though, could see the fondness in Kyoutani’s eyes as he looked at his fiancé. His knuckles turned white on the frame as he spun around and threw it aggressively on the wall, where the glass shattered all over the ground. He fell on his knees and let a fresh set of tears run down his face.

“Why did you leave me? Why did you throw yourself in front of me? And in front of these other people? Why did you leave me alone, Shigeru? What good did you think it would do?” His voice was raising as he spoke and he choked on a sob.

He couldn’t believe it. A scoff left his mouth as he looked at the shards on the ground and he picked himself up, not bothering to clean up the mess. He scoffed once more as a knock resonated from the front door. He slammed it open, glaring at Watari in front of him.

“Fuck off, I can handle myself very well, I’m not a fucking kid.”

“I know that, but you just lost one of the most important, if not the most important person in your life and we’re not just letting you go through that alone.” Watari pushed passed him, ignoring his grumbling and bad attitude. He knew that Kyoutani was hurt and trying to seem tough, but deep inside he needed someone there. 

When he stepped in the living room, he saw the glass shards and the photo of the couple on the ground. He felt tears well up in his eyes. Even if Yahaba wasn’t as important to him as to his fiancé, he was still one of his good friends and losing him felt surreal. Watari took it upon himself to clean the mess so that Kyoutani wouldn’t cut himself on the sharp pieces and took a few minutes to tidy everything, placing the photo in a drawer so that the owner of the house wouldn’t have another urge to throw it on the wall.

Once he was done, he turned around to Kyoutani, sprawled out on the couch and pointedly ignoring him. He sighed and dumped himself next to the mass of limbs.

“Are you going tomorrow?” He asked in hope of getting an answer.

“Of fucking course I’m going! Are you mental? He was my fiancé, Watari, I’m not going to spend all my life hidden in this fucking hellhole just cause he fucking got killed. If I have the chance to see him one last time, I’m going to fucking go and curse him for leaving me the fuck alone in this stupid place. Also, fuck you and your pity, I don’t fucking need it, go away.”

“Jesus, Kyoutani, we don’t come here to pity you, we come here to make sure you’re alright, ‘cause if you hadn’t noticed, we’re your friends and we care about you, so get your head out of your ass and realize we don’t pity you. We’re empathizing ’cause we know how shitty it would be to lose the one we love and we want you to know we’re here for you!”

“Okay, fuck, fine! You’re here for me, but here for what? I don’t need your fucking help, I’m not two, I’m a grown-ass man that can handle himself.”

“Some people get self destructive when things like this happen, we just want to make sure it doesn’t happen to you too, you can’t be too careful!”

Kyoutani dropped it after that, knowing that Watari wouldn’t give up. He simply huffed and crossed his arms.

At Yahaba’s funeral, he wasn’t much better. He stood there, glaring at the casket. His friends collectively thought that if glares could bring back the dead, Yahaba would be up and healthy in a matter of seconds. He glared, but anyone who knew him well enough could see the pain in that glare. They could see the loneliness pooling in his eyes as well as the unasked questions.  
  


_Why did you go?_

_Why are you leaving me?_

_Are you a fucking idiot?_

_What did I do for you to leave me behind?_

_The bullet probably would’ve only grazed my arm, why did you insist on being the hero?_

_Why aren’t you standing up and winking, telling me it was a joke?_

_Where are you?_

_Was I not good enough?_

Then a question hit his mind, making Kyoutani shed the first tear he ever shed in public.

_What if I ordered takeout like he wanted?_

**_Stage 3: bargaining_ **

Kyoutani never had that many people over. Most of his old teammates and even a few of his new ones were all scattered around the living room as the fake-blonde stared at nothing in particular.

“You know what the worst part is?” He suddenly spoke, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “He didn’t want to go out. He said to order takeout, that we’d buy real food later, but I insisted. If only…. if only I’d said fine. If only I’d fallen for these puppy eyes he gave like I did so many times before. It’s my fault actually, that he died, because if I’d had listened to him, he’d still be here today and none of you guys would be in our house right now.” 

“Kyoutani. It isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault but the one who shot him.” Oikawa tried, just to get brutally cut off by Kyoutani.

“How would you fucking know? You have a very healthy girlfriend and she’s nowhere near dead, you don’t fucking know what happened and you don’t know how I feel. I don’t want your fake fucking empathy.” He dropped his head in his arms, shaking.

“Kyoutani. No one is faking their empathy. Most of us are in a relationship and you’re currently living our biggest fear, we want you to know it’s not your fault, that’s all!” Iwaizumi jumped to his best friend’s defence. 

He laid in bed that night, unable to close his eyes like so many nights before. He pondered on his senpai’s words, frustration building up in him as he couldn’t understand why his most respected upperclassman (even if he technically wasn’t his upperclassman anymore) maintained that it wasn’t his fault. He let his mind tumble down into dozens and dozens of different scenarios, of what ifs and if onlys that had as a sole purpose to make him feel like he was the one responsible for his lover’s death.

_What if we went to the other supermarket instead?_

_What if we had stopped for boba like he asked me on the way?_

_If only I wasn’t so stubborn._

_What if I was standing a foot to the left? Would he have survived?_

_If only I ordered the fucking American takeout he loves so much._

_If only I let him cuddle me instead of forcing him to go get food._

_If only I held him close._

_What if I reached out and caught him before he threw himself in front of the bullet._

_If only._

_If only._

_If only._

_If only._

He didn’t sleep much that night, or any of the following. He let the thoughts of a happy life with Yahaba completely destroy him inside. He let tears stain his pillow in the cold and empty bed, while reminding himself that if only, if only he had listened to his partner, he would be warm and there would be a body pressed to his. 

**_Stage 4: depression_ **

He stopped answering the door. He could hear his phone ringing but he refused to pick it up. He had been vulnerable in front of too many people already. Kyoutani also stopped going to practice. He knew they would look at him with that sad gaze, talk to him as if they were walking on eggshells, doing all these little things that would remind him of Yahaba’s fate. He knew it well enough. The empty, silent house was screaming loud enough in itself. 

He didn’t know if he was crying anymore. He didn’t know how quickly time was passing by. He didn’t know anything anymore, he was only staring at the ceiling. His nights seemed to merge into days and into nights again, while Kyoutani only got up if his stomach grumbled or his body was asking to evacuate liquids. He had almost no food left, and briefly realized he should go grocery shopping, but decided against it. No, grocery shopping was too dangerous, it could kill someone. There was a knock at the door as he was staring into the almost-empty fridge. He knew that from the window next to the door, the kitchen was noticeable and that whoever was there was seeing him. So, he opted for not turning around, closing the fridge and sitting on the floor.

The knocking resumed, more intently. He usually plugged in his headphones when people were knocking for him, but this time he knew that whoever was there wouldn’t stop until he opened and let them in. He had enough of feeling vulnerable and didn’t want to turn around, preferring to close himself off. At least he thought so until he heard a voice almost screaming from the other side of the door.

“Kentarou, open this damned door!” More banging followed. 

He reluctantly stood up and went to open the door, looking at his mother’s worried face with a squeeze to the heart. 

“Your friends called me, saying you wouldn’t open the door or pick up the phone. I thought you had… I thought you ended it. I was so worried Kentarou, I thought you let it get to you. Oh dear. I was so relieved when I saw you standing in front of that fridge.” She wrapped his arms around him as he bit his lip, stopping a sob from ripping itself out of his throat. 

“I’m sorry, I-” his voice cracked and gave up mid-sentence. His mother brought him to sit on the couch as she settled next to him, rubbing his back as fresh tears started running down his face. If his mom realized it was the first time he cried in front of her, she didn’t mention it as she focused on comforting her son.

“I miss him so much, mom. So so much. I can’t go anywhere without something making me think of him. Even this fucking house! And I’m running out of food but I can’t go buy any. That’s what killed him. I’m scared mom. I just want this all to be a bad dream, to wake up with him next to me, telling me that it’s alright.”

Somewhen during his confession, she had started crying. Never before had the woman heard her only son talk about his feelings. He always hid behind an angry mask, letting out grunts when people talked to him. She had loved Yahaba like a son, because he was the first one who broke that mask, and after his death, he was still the only one able to break it. So she did what a mother does best and held him close, running a hand through his hair while murmuring sweet nothings. 

His mother’s visit had lightened Kyoutani’s heart a bit. He opened the door to his friends and agreed to go grocery shopping (although refusing that anyone accompanied him, not wanting to be responsible for any more deaths). He went to practice once a week when he felt like it and let out all of his frustrations out on the ball. He still needed to play to his best, as he needed a paycheck to survive. It had been almost a year since his other half had left and slowly, Kyoutani was getting back on his feet.

**_Stage 5: acceptance_ **

No matter what people said, Kyoutani knew that he would never truly _accept_ Yahaba’s passing. His friends would talk to him about the stages of grief and tell him about acceptance. He didn’t accept it, he didn’t move on, but he could pick up his broken pieces and slowly move forward. A few words that Hanamaki had said made him think a lot, even five years after his fiancé’s death.

_“You know, I’m sure he’s looking over you, wherever he is now, and he’d probably want you to keep going, if not for him, at least for yourself.”_

He thought about it a lot, because he wanted to make Yahaba proud of him from his resting place. He wanted to keep going, for both himself and his Shigeru. So even if he couldn’t accept his loss, he could keep on living. He could see a new sunrise and a new sunset every day. He could eat some of that American takeout that he used to love so much. He could help his teammates win games, all of which he silently dedicated to Yahaba. His friend even mentioned how he was getting better and better with every passing day.

“You know, Kyoutani, I’ve been watching your games on TV, you got real good huh?” Watari had pointed out as a few Seijoh alumni were having ramen at a local place.

“I practiced, and I had support.” He simply shrugged as he took another bite of his noodles.

“That’s great! Still holding up alright?” Iwaizumi asked, putting down his chopsticks as he finished his food.

“Yeah, I think so. It took me a while but I’m back to practice every day. I think he left me behind with a bit of his perseverance.” 

He received in reply warm smiles from the people he considered his closest friends. 

Kyoutani remembered an interview in particular, even when he retired and his articulations started hurting by the simple thought of running. The interviewer had asked about couples and everyone had awkwardly looked at Kyoutani. He knew they were asking for him to reply to a question that sounded something like “is anyone in your team single?”. So he looked at him with the same stoic face and answered, voice unwavering.

“I used to have a fiancé, but he passed away a couple years back. That makes me the only single guy in our team.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He was used to this kind of reactions from people when they learned what happened to his partner. He didn’t know why, though, but that exact time, he felt the urge to reply.

“It’s fine. In his short time, he taught me more about life than anyone else did, so he’s my biggest motivation to keep going and keep playing volleyball with all I’ve got. He’s the one who slammed into my head to not give up when I struggled and I definitely don’t want to let him down. He was and still is my biggest inspiration.”

And it was true, because without him and his impact on his life, Kyoutani wouldn’t be the man he became as his face wrinkled and his hair grayed. He never found love again, but he made it his mission to at least smile at one person every day, because he knew that at another place and time, he would meet him again and could hear him say how proud he was that Kyoutani kept going through all the adversities of life. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you somewhat enjoyed this even though it’s just straight angst but ayo, there’s a relatively happy ending so :)


End file.
